Beautiful
by Reno Spiegel
Summary: Half hour challenge. Tifa and Tseng. An empty bar. And the Turk no one expected.


Author's Note: Written for one of Chocobo Goddess' numerous half-hour writing challenges. Yes, written in half an hour with no editing.  
  
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Beautiful  
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She knew it was a bad omen when he walked in for two reasons: One, it was him; two, it was three hours after closing and she knew for a fact that she had locked the door.

He walked into the bar with an air of elegance about him, the kind that made slum-dwellers like those in the area want to slap him off the high horse he didn't particularly want in the first place. He twirled a metal rod attached to a ring around his finger, showing off his lock-picking instrument to burgundy eyes that didn't give a damn.

"Where the hell did you come from?" she spat. Tifa Lockheart's life had been ripped apart when this man had flipped a switch and dropped a plate on Sector Seven, two barriers over from Five, where she'd reestablished Seventh Heaven. The AVALANCHE money had been more than enough to get her back on her feet. "And how? Last I saw you, you were keeled over with a big fucking sword in your gut."

"A ruse, m'dear," he said, the last word obviously a joke; a ruse if you will go so far as to be redundant. Tseng, showing no intention of leaving, pulled up a barstool with a drawn-out screech and sat himself down, draining a forgotten glass of something horribly bitter. "Reno knew about it, but if the company had known I'd faked my death to give the Keystone to you out of courtesy, I would have been truly killed. The Masamune is not a hard thing to duplicate in the way of appearance."

Tifa's fingers ached, pressing hard as she tried to get the grease spot off a stubborn plate. "So where'd you come from? Hell? Or have I forgotten the name of a more fitting place?"

Tseng pushed a lock of hair behind his ear. "Wutai, actually. I was headed here on business with Reno and Rude, but it seems I have an extra stop to make now. Engine trouble, you know?"

"Take it to Rick's," she grunted, swirling a rag over the plate to finalize her work. "He knows everything about engines, inside and out."

"It exploded, Lockheart."

Tifa rolled her eyes. "My sincerest apologies, O' Great Turk. So why're you here? Rub in the fact that we lost everything to Sephiroth and ShinRa? You're still self-employed, at least, so a down-talking remark would be all the more fitting."

Six months ago, Meteor had, more or less, trashed the landscape of every area that actually had one. Midgar had been left intact just because its Mako content reversed the rock's polarity and kept the harsh effects away.

"I'm here because Reno was under the van when it blew u – Tifa, would you sit down for a moment? I don't appreciate an audience of shoulder-blades as opposed to a visage." Tseng's voice had lost its dangerous edge, and picked up a sharper one of warning. This was not going to be easy on him.

Tifa threw a glass down and watched it shatter, then took a seat rather violently. She tossed the dishrag over her shoulder and slammed her hands down on the bar. "Pardon me for not giving a fuck."

Tseng held his tongue. "Tifa, he was the one who told me to come here and talk to y –"

"I don't care!" she yelled. "Can you understand that I don't very much care for the guy who killed my friends?! Or are you too far above me to understand the emotion called resent?! How about hatred, Tseng? That one work for you?!"

Tseng's fist hit the bar and a shot glass jumped. "Shut up, Woman!!" he roared. An uneasy silence fell for a few moments before he composed himself and continued. "Reno was under the goddamned van looking at our muffler when it blew. He had maybe fifteen seconds to say something, and do you know what he told me instead of saying goodbye to his fellow Turks?"

Tifa's eyes blazed. "Get out, Tseng. I don't need to hear Reno's self-written epitaph, especially from your lying ass. So just leave."

Tseng stayed put.

"Now."

He had been raised on ethics, and his told him that when a woman told you to leave, you did so. Tseng nodded slowly and stood, walking to the door with that same elegant stride. He opened the flimsy thing and was halfway out when he turned his head slightly and chuckled.

"He just said. . . "Go to Midgar. Tell her she's still beautiful." Goodbye, Tifa."

The door shut, and her resistance went with it as she sank to the floor and cried, remembering the first time, years before in a bar as empty as this, he'd kissed her and told her that.

**-Fin.**


End file.
